


Salt and Sunshine

by RamblingMegome



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: But I think it's more positive than not, Eremin is my heart and soul and I need to cope somehow, Eren has problems with staring, Fluff, Introspection, Kind of fluffy, M/M, Maybe a little bittersweet, Narrative Rambling, No Spoilers, i don't really know how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingMegome/pseuds/RamblingMegome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been through hell and back to make it here together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt and Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed to get something written after 82 so here's a big jumble of rambling vomited up onto the page. Prepare for long sentences with lots of dependent clauses, and a bunch of comparisons and junk that hopefully aren't too confusing. God this thing's probably corny as all get-out. But man. I really need it.

**Salt and Sunshine**

The sky is cloudless and bluer than he’s ever seen, a reflection, so he’s been told, of the sea, which stretches out before him, a vast expanse of water greener and murkier than he’d imagined, unbroken but for the thin white lines of foam capping the gently rolling waves as they break in the distance. The smell of salt fills his nose and he can feel it stinging his bare ankles each time the cold water eases in, rushes back out with a strength that sweeps the wet sand over his toes, the spray gradually soaking through the cuffs of his military-issue pants that are too fitted to roll up past his shins. The water is cold enough to numb but the sun is warm, shining high overhead as if the rays of heat on his skin could bathe away the darkness of the nightmare his body has weathered, dissolving it like dirt from the surface of his skin – like how it dissolves water from rain puddles, so he’s been told. The water glimmers under its light. 

It’s more beautiful than he could have imagined, the hard-won prize for years of suffering and sacrifice and loss, and he should be looking at it, he should be taking it in and reveling in victory, in triumph, in finally getting what he wanted. He should be looking at it, but instead he can’t take his eyes off Armin, who stumbles knee-deep through the surf a short way off, laughing at the way the water drags at his legs and stops him from running. He’s half-soaked, all propriety and restraint forgotten as he sees something beneath the waves, stops abruptly, and crouches in the water, plunging his arms in up to the elbows, spluttering as a wave smacks him in the face and nearly knocks him off-balance. His blue eyes are alight with a pure, unbridled exuberance that Eren hasn’t seen in years, not since they were children playing make-believe by the pond or huddling over a forbidden book together, unmarred by the harsh realities of their world, and right now Armin almost looks as if he’s regained that innocence as he rummages in the sand, the sun shining like golden fire off his damp hair. The dark circles beneath his eyes and the thinness of his cheeks are hardly noticeable with the way he’s smiling, a _real_ smile, the first real smile he’s worn in what seems like years. 

Armin pushes himself to his feet and wades back to Eren, hands clasped carefully in front of him, just like when they used go frog-catching in the pond as kids. A thick strand of seaweed has wrapped itself firmly about his knee, as if to replace the leather straps of the maneuver gear they no longer have to wear. His wet shoulder is cold when it touches Eren’s arm, but he leans into it, feeling the water pinprick onto his skin through his shirt. Armin opens his hands to show what he’s found, and Eren leans close and sees a few shells, scalloped and speckled, one small one twisted up in a delicate swirl. 

He can’t help his startled noise when the small one sprouts tiny legs and begins to scurry across Armin’s palm. Armin laughs, the sound like the tinkling of a wind chime in the breeze, and reassures him. He thinks it’s some kind of crab living inside the shell, see the little pinchers? It’s harmless, he says, and Eren lets him lower the creature onto his own palm, giving a short laugh of his own at the way the tiny spokes of its legs tickle his skin, and the two of them pass it between their hands so it doesn’t fall. Armin goes on, saying something about habitats and exoskeletons, and Eren listens more to the cadence of his voice as it rises and falls, backed by the ever-present undercurrent of the breeze and the waves and the screeches of gulls, than to the meaning of the words themselves. His gaze drifts away from the little crab back to the face of the boy… no, the face of the young man next to him, bright eyes fixed with rapt eagerness on the new creature in his palm, the first of many, excitedly chattering on as if he himself is only half aware of what he’s saying. Eren thinks about how many times they nearly lost this moment, and he can’t bring himself to look at anything else. 

Armin’s gaze flicks up to meet his, back down to their overlapping hands, then back up in surprise, lingering this time, his words trailing off into silence. For a long moment they just stand there, looking at each other in the wonder of making it here, together, damaged, but in one piece. Eren feels the crab finally manage to scuttle over the edge of his palm and plummet with a tiny _plop_ back into the safety of the water. He shifts his hand to take Armin’s, feeling the delicate curves of the seashells cupped between their palms, and he lifts the other to thread his fingers through damp golden hair. Armin turns his face up to meet him, free hand finding the crook of Eren’s neck as he pulls in close, and through the cold wetness of his clothes Eren can feel the warmth of the skin beneath. 

The gentle waves lap at their ankles and the sun bears witness, unable to wash the harsh years away but engraving this moment just as deep into their bones. When they kiss it tastes like salt, and sunshine, and freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon is that whenever Armin gets excited over something, Eren literally cannot stop staring at him. Anytime I draw something where they're at the ocean or they're discovering something new, it always ends up with Armin being really excited over it and Eren just watching him with the most lovestruck expression.


End file.
